


Ain't It Peculiar, Darlin'

by AceQueenKing



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)
Genre: (In that strange Scoundrel sort of way), Domestic Fluff, F/M, Quickies, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 02:30:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15378735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: The first thing Val thought when Beckett snuck up behind her was that he was the only man who could do so without getting skinned alive. The grin on his face that she could feel as he nestled his head into her neck suggested nothing so much as that he was aware of this fact and currently enjoying it.





	Ain't It Peculiar, Darlin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Artemis1000](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/gifts).



> Your "Val/Beckett being domestic in their own weirdo scoundrel way" prompt snagged me and would not let me go.

The first thing Val thought when Beckett snuck up behind her was that he was the only man who could do so without getting skinned alive. The grin on his face that she could feel as he nestled his head into her neck suggested nothing so much as that he was aware of this fact and currently enjoying it.

"Heyy, good lookin'," he crooned into her shoulder. She smiled a tiny bit, knowing anything else would encourage him. "Whatcha got cookin'?"

"Nothing for you," she said, making a show of chopping a bit of muja fruit quickly. She had to admit, the ship that they had "borrowed" during their latest escape attempt was a pretty nice one — in addition to the record-breaking acceleration that Rio had been bragging about from up front, it had a kitchenette. It had beds. It was, frankly, a domestic step up from their usual fare, and she would be almost sad to ditch it in the Nuiri sector when they were finished with the job.

But, that, alas, was the risk of the business.

"Hey hey," he said softly, his lips ghosting the edge of her ear. "What's with this business? I worked hard today."

"Didn't see you shootin' Prammi when she came to investigate," She turned around, raising one eyebrow as she bit into her own slice of muja. "Seems to me like I was the star today."

"You're always my star, darlin," he said, shooting her a patented supernova Beckett smile. His fingers darted out, quick as a bantha, obviously expectant, and she smacked his hand before he made contact with the fruit. It was best to keep him guessing.

"Ouch!" She turned toward him with a smirk, enjoying the look of playful frustration on his face. "You've impugned my very sensibilities, dear."

She snorted, then finally relented, handing him a few pieces of Muja.

"Thank you, sunshine," he said, grinning as he bit into a piece. Juice ran down his chin. She pretended not to notice, if only because she was pretty sure Rio wouldn't appreciate her licking it off his chin. Two was perfect, three was a commentary track.

"Share with Rio," she said, turning back and devouring her remaining slices in six quick seconds before he could try to bargain for more for Rio. They'd have dinner later but after two days of hidin' in the mud to gain access to Prammi's vaults, she was notably hungry for domestics — safety, shelter, a shower, and other, more carnal things.

"What if I don't quite want to deal with Rio?" He mouthed softly and pressed a kiss to her throat. Typical Beckett, always playing like he was going for the kill early. She opened her mouth to sass back at him but he took advantage, cupping her mouth and pressing a kiss to her mouth that made her all too aware of how much she'd missed being with him.

"Rio — " She said, the start of a clever line dying as she squirmed, trying to turn around in his arms, but he held her firm, trapping her against the kitchenette's cabinet with his hips.

"Hell with Rio," he whispered, his fingers dismantling the lock on her belt in a couple swift gestures. He'd always had good fingers, she thought, and braced herself against him.

"You can't be serious," she said, but the kisses trailing down her neck convinced her that yes, he was. "At least turn around - "

"Nah, darlin', this just - this is just a prelude," he hummed in a choked half-whisper; his hands slid into her panties, easy as silk. He was a good thief; too good, _brash_. He knews her weaknesses and he exploited them in a way that somehow punctured each and every one of her damn defenses.

"You think you're hot shit," she snorted, but the effect of the rebuke was ruined by her trembling voice as his fingers found her thighs; he teased her, fingers gliding everywhere but where she wanted, where she already ached.

She tried to grab his hand but he withdrew, lightning quick. "Ain't nothin' but the truth, darlin," he said, with a brimming affection that warmed her from head to toe. She grabbed his blond hair, kissed him hard on the lips, and was rewarded with a reflexive buck of those hips.

She listened for Rio as she relaxed into his arms. He wasn't slow, but he was not quite fast enough to keep her from feelin' anything but madness, as his fingers dartted everywhere but where she wanted — slow carresses down her thighs, whispering glances at her belly. It was awkward to maneuver with her clothes still most of the way on, but neither of them bothered to take anything more off. The challenge made it all the more rewarding.

She wiggled in his arms and he chuckled, clearly enjoying this. His fingers finally - finally! - touched her, his thumb slowly making the softest little noises as he explored her cunt.

"Darlin', you're wet," he said, in a ragged voice; she grabbed his hand, trying, wordlessly, to tell him that she loved him. She was never good with words, but he got her, she thought. He really did.

His thumb circled her clit, making her squirm and gasp. She grabbed his hip behind him and he chuckled; when she turned her gaze toward him, she saw those eyes, warm and sweet. Odd and intoxicating, those were, especially on such an old outlaw.

"You're so beautiful," he hummed softly. "Best be quiet, now."

She gasped at him as he held her, fingers moving slowly, methodically across the hood of her clit. He didn't touch her directly, knew all too well she wasn't that easy. Slow, circular motions, then fast — then slow again. Bastard paid attention to what she liked, she'd give him that.

He didn't say he loved her, not in words exactly, but his hands supported her; her thighs quivered and he caught her, held her. She was safe in his arms; she knew it; he did, too.

"I - I," she stuttered, and he shook his head, smiling. This was what she loved, more than anything else, about him - the things left unsaid. She didn't need to tell him what he already knew. 

"Shh, just enjoy the ride," he said, pressing a kiss to her slick forehead. She looked up at him, mouth slightly open, and he kissed her again, surprisingly tender, and something inside of her short-circuited. She was close, too close, and she bucked against his hand, begging him for more and he gave it, he gave it to her - his fingers moving fast, in for the kill now, and he finished her, smiling like it was the easiest thing.

She groaned, unable to stop herself from making any noise, as the orgasm took her. He felt her shudder and let her come down easy before finally turning her around, kissing her with such dizzying speed and skill that she still felt like she was floating. She was hot, sweaty, and wanted nothing more than jump his bones at this very, very moment.

"Thank you," she said, instead.

"Thank _you_ ," he chuckled, grabbing her palm and kissing it like he was some kind of courtly casanova. It was the type of move her father would have pulled; somehow, on Beckett, it looked ridiculous, and she found she liked it better this way.

"What is taking you so long, Beckett?" A voice boomed out from the cockpit and they both froze as Rio came into the room, all four arms shrugging. "Thought you were just gonna ask Val - oh, _jeez_ , guys, _really_?"

Beckett pulled her close and just laughed while Val hid her face in his jacket and tried not to do the same. Ardennian noses were finely honed; there was little point in denying it.

"Really? In front of _my_ muja fruit?" She could see out of the corner of her eye that Rio, too, was laughing. She supposed food did go a long way toward making him feel a bit better.

"I'll uh, leave you kids alone. Just try not to traumatize the beans, alright? I want a good dinner tonight."

"We can do that," Beckett said, smiling.

"No offense, but I'm locking the cockpit, and I'm knocking loudly if I gotta go out for any reason."

"Wise," she said, and Beckett stifled a second laugh. Or attempted to, anyway; mostly unsuccessfully.

Rio snorted, waving. "Have fun, kids."

"Well," Beckett said, wrapping an arm around her. "Wanna break in ol' Prammi's bed? Only gonna have this ship a little while..."

"First, a shower," she says, laughing. "Then you've got me."

It's not the most common of love stories, theirs, but it's ironic; for all his love-songs, she's quite certain her father never understood a love like this. It was easier to sing love-songs that meant nothing; harder to show it.

"Oh darlin," he said, mock-bowing. "You've _always_ got me."

"I know," she said, and slapped him on the ass for good measure as she went to wash off the grime of a long, satisfying mission.


End file.
